


Your Other Left

by salakavala



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: A little, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feel-good, Here's a spoiler:, Loki (Marvel) Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Strangers to cuddlers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salakavala/pseuds/salakavala
Summary: Alone on an empty road in the middle of nowhere, Loki's day couldn't get much worse. And here's the twist: for once, it actually doesn't.





	Your Other Left

 

There wasn't a single cloud on the sky. A sweltering heat that was so rare in mid-September had assaulted the country. It could have been beautiful, really, the kind of day that your aunt would call delightful and the single father next door would spend on a playground with his toddler.

It wasn't, however, an ideal weather for ten-kilometre Sunday walks in your black suit and smart dress shoes.

It was like the universe had looked at Loki and thought, mm, how could I make his day worse. Clearly it wasn’t enough that Loki had had to attend his father’s funeral in a rattrap of a village in the middle of nowhere. Discovering that he had been cut out of the will and that his share of the inheritance had been donated to a fund for homeless kittens also didn’t cut the deal, apparently. Getting kicked out of his brother’s car on their way to the bus station in a neighbouring town was just peanuts, so better to add some abnormal sunshine just for today, because didn’t everybody love post-summer heat waves? You’re welcome.

There – your reason to fight the climate change even if you didn’t give a shit about anything else.

Sweat tickled at Loki's forehead and gathered at the nape of his neck, below the hairline, trickled down under the stiff collar of his appropriately black shirt. He tugged at his tie, but didn't loosen it; if he had to walk ten kilometres to the next cluster of buildings so generously called a ‘town’ in his funeral attire, sweating like a pig and silently cursing the blister forming on his little toe, all because his brother's stupidity (and maybe Loki's sharp tongue) had got him kicked out of his brother's car… he would do it, but he wouldn't be caught dead _looking_ it. What, Loki? Just taking a pleasant afternoon stroll in the rare good weather. That's Loki for you, he simply likes walking so much.

Was that your last joke, father? Moving to the last remote corner of the earth just to get buried in the least accessible town possible, all out spite.

Not a bad idea, actually.

The road was straight and empty, with nothing around but dust and dry patches of dead grass. In the distance, Loki could see his destination, but the town didn't seem to get any closer, no matter how long he had been walking. Better not look ahead, or he'd feel he wasn’t making any progress at all. Just keep looking down, or up, or wherever that wasn’t in front of him.

That was why he heard the car before he saw it – first just a flash of light reflecting on the windscreen, then the following dust cloud. It was approaching fast, and Loki stepped off the road just to play safe. The car passed him within moments and coated him in the dust anyway. It showed marvellously on his black suit, what a delight. Pity Loki was on his way _from_ the funeral and not _to_ it; it would have been at least some consolation to shock his few uptight relatives with his dishevelled appearance, and the day wouldn't have gone completely to waste.

He heard another car approach him, this time from behind. Without turning to look, Loki briefly entertained the possibility of it being Helblindi, who, having realised his own pettiness, had come to his senses and returned to beg for Loki's forgiveness, asking to take Loki to the bus station as he'd promised. Even better: since the last bus to Loki’s home city had probably already departed, Helblindi would offer to take Loki all the way back to his very doorstep himself. Loki would naturally refuse condescendingly, just out of spite. He and his father had something in common after all.

But it was a stupid idea and Loki abandoned it even before the car drove past him and proved to be just another random driver, going wherever. Another dust cloud, but at least this one kept mostly to the other side of the road. Something to be grateful for, if it mattered at this point.

But instead of just disappearing in the horizon, the car slowed down, and then stopped altogether some fifty metres ahead.

Loki instinctively slowed his pace. Simply brilliant, wasn’t it? Considering his recent luck, he was now about to get mugged. Maybe even abducted. Did he look like he'd make good ransom, sweaty and dirty from the road as he was, carrying only a briefcase? Doubtful, and he certainly had no one to pay ransom for him. If anything, his brothers would probably pay his abductor to keep Loki locked up in some basement for the rest of his days.

The driver's door opened, and a man stepped out.

Loki stopped in his tracks. Well, if he _was_ about to get abducted, he could certainly do worse with his captor. Because this guy was a fucking Greek statue, only upgraded to actual perfection: tall and ridiculously muscular, grey T-shirt showing off his bulging biceps with which he could probably lift his own car, let alone some Loki. Annoyingly, the thought left him feeling somewhere between intimidated and vaguely turned on, but mostly it just made him wary. Yeah, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Any chance.

The man started walking towards him. “Uh, hey,” he called, giving an awkward wave with his hand.

 _Here it comes,_ thought Loki, bracing himself. There was no way he could outrun this guy in his stupid dress shoes. He could never overpower him, either, but he was good at fighting dirty. With any luck he'd get at least one eye out, if it came to that.

It didn't seem to lead to that, though – the man stopped within some five metres from Loki, grinning a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I realise this probably looks kind of creepy. I just saw you walking alone and… figured I'd check that you're all right?” He frowned, apparently at himself; whatever his intentions were, he obviously hadn’t thought them through.

“I'm Thor,” he then opted to go with what he should have led with, and, still standing five metres away, stuck out his hand. He stared at it for a second, then almost smoothly withdrew it to run it through his short, blond hair.

“Loki,” said Loki, because what else could he do? Continue to play a mute lamp post?

“Nice to meet you, Loki.” Thor smiled at him disarmingly. “So. I figured I'd ask if you needed a lift somewhere. No offence, but you don't look like you're just taking an evening stroll for the pleasure of it.”

No, really? And here Loki had almost fooled himself. Crossing his arms, he appraised Thor. Nothing about his face really screamed mugger to Loki – he had an open, friendly look in his unbelievably blue eyes, and despite his strong build, his body language remained unthreatening. There was something in him that even reminded Loki of a playful dog. Although, let's be fair, how many muggers introduced themselves as such? Thor could well be using his slightly dorky smile to lull Loki into a sense of security, then strike when he least expected it. Still, the truth of the matter was that Loki was tired, his feet were hurting, and the town just wasn't getting any closer. He was aware of the last bus probably having already left, but at least he would get to the town in time to catch a cup of tea before all the cafeterias and restaurants closed for the night. If the town even had any.

“Sure,” he said without further fuss, because what was the point? “Thank you.”

Thor’s car was pretty nice. It wasn’t the latest Audi, but still, it showed that money probably wasn’t an issue for Thor. The car was painted crimson, and it had comfortable, cream-coloured leather seats inside. For a moment Loki felt unpleasantly self-conscious about possibly ruining them in his current state, but he drove the feeling away – Thor had offered him the ride seeing perfectly well the state of Loki’s clothing. Still, it was somewhat humiliating to sit in a nice car beside an attractive man while covered in sweat and road dust.

“So, where to, sir?” Thor asked and then immediately cringed – whether it was at his own cheesy line or at the smudged swipe of dirt that Loki’s sleeve left on the passenger’s door, Loki wasn’t sure, but for some reason he hoped it was for the former. Thought it was the former, too, because Thor seemed to be the kind of guy to throw around silly lines without thinking them through first. He was probably a film nerd. Come to think of it, Thor looked excellent material for a film-watching companion – he had all the right physical attributes for it.

“Just to the next town,” Loki told him, nipping _that_ thought at its bud. “The bus station, if it’s no trouble.”

“Sure thing,” Thor replied, but Loki didn’t miss the glance he threw at the time on the car radio: six thirty. The bus station was open until six o’clock on Sundays, and by the look of it, Thor was as aware of the fact as Loki himself. Still, mercifully, he said nothing else and hit the gas pedal.

Loki allowed himself a moment of relief when the AC hit his damp face, cooling him down pleasantly. The drive would only take some ten minutes, so Loki would enjoy the comfort while he had it.

“So,” Thor said, and Loki sighed inwardly. Time for the inevitable questions, then. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Hot, kind, _and_ smart. “No.”

He kept his eyes on the approaching town, but noticed Thor giving him a quick once-over. “And, uh, why were you walking to the station, if you don’t mind me asking?”

If you had to add _if you don’t mind me asking_ , you probably _shouldn’t_ be asking, at least a total stranger.

“My brother kicked me out of his car,” Loki answered matter-of-factly, enjoying how his honesty first surprised Thor and then made him visibly uncomfortable for breaching an evidently touchy subject. But he had wanted to talk, hadn’t he? Well, Loki could talk. Pity for Thor that he wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. “So it was either walk or lie down at the roadside.”

“Right,” Thor said, tapping the wheel with his fingers.

“Mm.”

Half a minute passed in silence, and Loki could feel the tension bottling up in his temporary personal driver. Poor sod, he was probably one of those people who felt uncomfortable in silence with total strangers, needing small-talk to fill the air. And true enough: soon Thor couldn’t stand it any longer and spoke again.

“So, were you here on business, or did someone die?” he asked good-naturedly, gesturing at Loki’s briefcase in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood after his misstep.

It was hardly Loki’s fault that Thor had stepped out of the frying pan into the fire.

“My father. Since you asked.”

Thor’s eyes whipped to him, searching, and then he groaned, thumping his forehead against the wheel.

“Eyes on the road, please,” Loki told him calmly. “I realise I am conveniently dressed for the occasion, but I’d rather not attend my own funeral quite yet.”

To his credit, Thor did as he was told. “God. I’m such a-- I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Despite himself, Loki felt a pang of guilt. Here Thor was, going out of his way to be kind to Loki, and Loki was repaying him by being his nasty self. If he kept it up he’d probably make a new record at being kick out of vehicles in one day.

He shrugged. “Don’t be. No one else certainly is.”

It wasn’t strictly speaking true; his aunt Hilde had benefited a great deal of the rent Laufey had been paying her, but Loki doubted that was the kind of loss that Thor had meant.

Thor glanced at him again, probably – rightly so – wondering what kind of dysfunctional family Loki hailed from. Loki couldn’t blame him; he sometimes wondered the very same thing himself.

“Right,” Thor said. “Sounds...” But he clearly failed to come up with a diplomatic way to end the sentence and left it at that. He looked so morose and disappointed in himself that Loki couldn’t help but take pity on him. After all, Thor was lending him a hand – Loki could cut him some slack. That sad Golden Retriever look of Thor’s had absolutely nothing to do with his decision.

“Fucked up is what it sounds like,” he said. “Trust me, I know.”

Thor’s face instantly lit up with a smile. Loki could almost swear he saw dog ears flipping up on top of Thor’s head, and damn, now he couldn’t get the idea of this massive man with a happily wagging tail out of his mind.

Thor looked back to the road, the smile still playing on his lips. Loki glanced at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing. You’ve got a nice smile.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m--” But he _was_ smiling, for the first time during the whole awful weekend. And Loki didn’t even really like dogs.

He quickly turned to look out of the passenger’s window, following his winning strategy: if you can’t win the argument, deflect and/or escape. There was no need at all to get flustered just because of a generic compliment.

(In Loki’s defence, though, it hadn’t sounded generic when Thor had said it. It had sounded like he had meant it.)

The window offered the needed distraction: they had entered the little backwater of a town. The streets were almost deserted, and it took Thor no time at all to steer the car to the parking lot of the grey concrete building that served as the bus station. He stopped the vehicle in front of the front door, its window dark. They both looked at it.

“Here we are,” Thor offered carefully.

There was no reason to be disappointed; Loki had known from the moment Helblindi had kicked him out of the car that he would miss his bus. Still, it didn’t make the prospect of spending the night in front of the closed doors of the station any more appealing. There wasn’t even a cheap motel in this damned little shithole.

“Thanks for the ride,” Loki said and unfastened his seat belt, reaching for the door handle.

“So, uh, is someone picking you up, or..?”

“No.”

“What’s your plan then?”

Loki rolled his eyes. What, did Thor _want_ to hear him say it out loud? Sure, Loki was the first to admit the appeal of kicking a fallen enemy, but it was admittedly less pleasant when directed at him. Besides, he doubted that even he had managed to make Thor his enemy in such a short time.

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t yet decided between camping on the bench on the right and the bench on the left side of the door. If you have any experience on the matter I would gladly hear it.”

Thor blinked at his sardonic tone, then nodded at the bench on the left. “That one. Trust me.”

Loki gaped at him for all of two seconds before pushing the door open. Was Thor sent by his brothers, after all, to gloat? Loki should have _known._ “Thanks,” he hissed and made to climb out of the car.

Thor’s hand around his wrist stopped him before he got the second foot out. “Wait -”

Loki yanked at his wrist. It didn’t even budge. Furiously he raised his eyes at Thor, not without a vague flash of fear. “Fine! How much do you want?”

Instead of demanding a sum, Thor dropped Loki’s wrist as if it had burned him and reeled back. “What? No, that’s not what I -”

“Then what _did_ you mean?” Suddenly Loki was just so… tired. Tired of dragging through this day, of this past week, of his whole fucking life that had been an unwanted accident to begin with if Laufey was to be believed. In that moment he didn’t give a damn if Thor demanded his credit card and the PIN code to go with it. Before Thor got a word in, Loki fished out his wallet and threw a note of twenty at him. Talk about judging a book by its cover! Loki should have fucking learnt by now. He turned to go again.

And again Thor stopped him, only this time not by grabbing his arm, but lightly placing a hand over Loki’s shoulder. It wasn’t physically restrictive, but Loki froze anyway. What was the point of running? Thor would probably have him pinned to the asphalt within a minute if he tried, and that was an indignity Loki could live without.

“That’s not what I meant,” Thor repeated. He hadn’t touched the note, which had landed under the handbreak. “Sorry. You probably had a pretty bad day. I just… I mean, today was warm, but it’s mid-September. The night’s going to get cold again. I was just trying to ask in a covert way if you had, you know, a backup plan or something.” A smile softened his serious face a little. “Obviously too covert.”

“Well, I don’t,” Loki said, still somewhat edgy. Thor’s vexing hand was still weighing on his shoulder, and Loki didn’t know what to think of it.

“I figured.” Thor withdrew his hand and regarded Loki with his unnervingly blue eyes. For a moment he said nothing, clearly a little conflicted, but just as Loki’s palms were beginning to sweat under the scrutiny, Thor finally spoke out.

“Okay. I hope this doesn’t come out creepy, but… you’ve obviously had a trying day, and there doesn’t seem to be many options open here right now, so maybe-- I mean, if you’d like, you could spend the night at my place. I live nearby, like five minutes, tops. In the morning I could give you a lift for the first bus. Or whichever bus that suits you, I’ve got the day off. So… what do you think?”

Loki regarded him silently and weighed his options. Thor was of course right – there weren’t many. Loki could call his brother and beg him to pick him up _and_ let him stay the night at his place – which was not happening, under any circumstances. Loki could also try to sleep outside the bus station, which, as Thor had already pointed out, was bound to become an awful experience. _Or_ Loki could take Thor up on his offer.

“Assuming I say yes,” he said carefully, “How much money would it cost me?”

Always read the fine print – he had learnt that early on, after a few errors.

Again, Thor looked almost offended. He picked up the fallen twenty, handing it back to Loki. “No money at all.”

Right. Best make things clear from the start. “I don’t sleep with people for payment.” He’d rather sleep outside.

Thor frowned at him once more.

“Loki,” he said at length, still frowning. “I’m not asking that. Why would you even--? Listen, I’m offering you a couch to sleep on, for free, with no demands or expectations.” He finally chanced a smile, which, funnily, put Loki at ease a little. “Granted, the couch is not a five-star experience, but it includes breakfast.” He ran his eyes over Loki’s form, clearly for show. “Also a bath.”

 _I can’t believe that_ I _have to be the one to tell you this, Lokes, but not all guys are assholes,_ Darcy had told him once, and, looking at Thor’s smiling face, Loki wondered if this was what she had meant. Either that, or Thor was an incredibly talented actor, which he wasn’t, because he clearly couldn’t maintain a poker face to save his life. Unless he was even better than that and faked--

Okay, no. Besides, when had Loki shied away from an opportunity? Especially when the alternative would have him spend his night on the street? Fuck it. Whatever happened, Loki would roll with it and find some way to come out on top, like he (almost) always did in the end.

“All right.”

Judging by Thor’s brightening face, Loki had indeed said it aloud, so that was that.

Thor hadn’t lied: it took him only about five minutes to drive his car from the bus station to the parking lot behind a three-floor apartment building on the outskirts of the town.

“I live on the first floor,” he said, pointing at a corner window that had light grey curtains with artsy red flowers. “It’s not very big, but it serves for now. Just remember, I didn’t promise you a fancy hotel.”

He seemed awfully self-conscious about his home, it was almost cute. Loki very nearly felt bad for having expected the worst of him. As a peace offering, he rolled his eyes as Thor led them to the front door of the building. “No, you promised me a couch, a bath, and breakfast. It would have to be pretty bad to lose to a bench on a parking lot.”

Honestly, Thor should do something about his smile. One of these days he was going to blind someone with it. Still, it was difficult not to return it, which only worsened the effect. _Maybe this was a bad idea after all,_ Loki thought as he climbed up the stairs behind Thor. At least an Asshole Thor Loki would know how to handle, and happily shred him to pieces if needed. But a Nice Thor proved to be a different sort of Bad Idea entirely. Well, too late now. Thor had already opened the door to his flat, so Loki had no choice but to follow.

Thor’s flat was indeed quite small – somehow, even Thor’s car had felt more spacey. From the hall Loki could see all the rooms: the tiny kitchen, the small living-room, the bedroom with its door ajar, giving a glimpse of a bed; and the door that presumably led to the bathroom.

“Warned you, it’s small,” Loki heard _and_ felt Thor say behind his back. He shivered – had he imagined Thor’s breath on his damp neck or..?

“It’s temporary, though. Or I hope it is,” Thor continued, toeing off his shoes. “Anyway...” He gestured at Loki’s suit jacket, and there was nothing Loki could do but let him take it and hang it on the rack.

“So.” Thor led him to the living-room. The lighting was pleasant there – the setting sun filtered through the half-closed blinds, creating a soft, cosy light in the room, unlike the aggressive burn it had been outside. “You’re probably hungry. Is there something particular you’d like to eat? I can whip up something quick and simple. Or we could order something from… well, from the one place that does home deliveries in this town, and that’s pizza, so.”

To be fair, Loki wasn’t really hungry – or rather, he had very little appetite. However, he acknowledged the fact that the last time he had eaten had been around noon at the memorial service. Even then he had been too wound up to manage forcing himself to swallow even the bare minimum he’d gathered on his plate for appearance’s sake.

Thor was still looking at him expectantly.

“Maybe something quick and light,” Loki complied at length. “I’m not particularly hungry.”

Thor nodded. “I’ll put something together. You can have your bath meanwhile.” His eyes fell on Loki’s briefcase, which certainly didn’t look like it could contain a spare set of clothes. “Er, do you have..?”

“I only meant to stay the day,” Loki said, balancing between embarrassed and apologetic. He didn’t like depending on others more than he had to, and there was something uncomfortably intimate about asking to borrow another person’s clothes.

Luckily Thor nodded without forcing Loki to say it out loud. “I’ll lend you something comfortable to spend the night in. The suit probably needs some special cleaning, but I have a washing machine if you’d like to use it.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just brush the dust off the jacket a bit, it’ll do for a couple of hours in a bus.” Maybe, if he looked dirty enough, no one would sit beside him, and he’d get to keep his space without having to squeeze between a body and a window.

Thor disappeared in his bedroom and reappeared a few moments later with a red towel and a bundle of clothes. Then he ushered Loki into the bathroom and told him to take all the time he needed.

And here was the thing: Thor actually had a bath tub. The guy clearly wasn’t just talk – he really fucking delivered.

Loki settled into the tub, letting the water slowly rise and cover his skin bit by bit. He leant his head back against the rim of the tub, closing his eyes with a content sigh. Thor had said he could take all the time he needed, and so far Thor seemed to have meant everything he promised, so Loki was going to take him up on his word. Well, let’s be honest, even if Thor had urged him to be quick, _this_ wasn’t an opportunity Loki was about waste.

When the water level began tickling Loki’s shoulders, he closed the tap and let himself sink in chin-deep. He felt oddly weightless, adrift but in a good way, content like he didn’t remember feeling in a long time. Only now did he truly realise how wound up he had been, now that it all started to melt away. As if the water washed away not only the sweat and grime, but also the conflicting mess of feelings Loki had about Laufey’s death, the emotional strain of the funeral, and the fucking revelation in the will. Like this, Loki could almost forget that his own brother had stranded him in the middle of a deserted road just a few hours ago.

The sounds of Thor’s fussing in the kitchen drifted into Loki’s consciousness as if through a fog. The muffled clanking of cupboard doors and the clattering of pans felt calming. Usually vague noises like that annoyed him, but now, for some reason, the thought of someone being there right on the other side of the wall, getting busy for Loki’s benefit, was comforting. He liked it. Could get used to it, even, could imagine he _was_ used to it already if the just closed his eyes…

When Loki almost inhaled water through his nose and jerked up, fully awake, he concluded he had soaked enough. Lest he fell asleep and drowned, which would hardly be an attractive sight when Thor eventually would have to break his door to see what was going on. Not the best way to thank a gracious host.

Having dried himself off, Loki unwrapped the bundle of clothes Thor had given him. It turned out to consist of a Prussian blue hoodie, grey yoga pants, and even soft socks. How thoughtful. Instinctively Loki brought the hoodie to his face to smell it. (What? Everybody did that!) It had that particular pleasant scent of _cleanness,_ but also a whiff of something else that was probably _Thor_ , and Loki allowed himself a moment to breath it in before growing embarrassed at himself and quickly pulling the clothes on.

He gave himself an appraising look in the mirror. His hair would be a curly mess when it dried, but there was nothing to do about that now. At least Loki no longer looked like a shady, disgraced lawyer taking his walk of shame in the middle of a desert. He no longer felt like one, either.

Thor seemed to agree, because his eyes slipped up and down Loki’s body when he entered the kitchen. “You look good,” he said openly, without a hint of innuendo. “Feeling better?”

Loki was somewhat offended at the implication that he had looked bad enough earlier to prompt that question now – even if it was true – but the omelettes and the simple salad Thor had prepared looked good enough to let the offence slip. Still, he deemed it better to change the subject. “Doesn’t smell half bad.”

It didn’t taste half bad either. Actually, nothing about the dinner was half bad. Having food in front of him, Loki suddenly found his appetite after all, and Thor’s company didn’t feel a strain; he kept up an easy chatter about this and that, but never once inquired about Loki’s family, the funeral, or anything more private than if he had any pets. For that, more so than for anything else Thor had done for him, Loki was grateful. He sure as hell didn’t feel like delving in the subject that was his life – he was content to listen to Thor’s pleasant, rumbling voice as they ate.

Thor told about his job that had taken him to this hellhole of a town (not Thor’s exact words, but Loki grasped the meaning) and the transfer he was hoping to get to another branch of the company somewhere else. Somehow, from that Thor moved to describing some little incidents he’d had as a child with all the stray animals he had dragged home, the animals ranging from injured baby squirrels to kittens to an actual piglet, of which no one knew how it had ended up in the forest where Thor and his friends had been playing. Before Loki knew when or how, he was laughing out loud at Thor’s descriptions of his mother’s gentle exasperation at Thor and his father’s inability to leave a cute baby animal alone, and all the trouble the wild little things had got Thor into. Still, Thor admitted with a sheepish grin, no amount of trouble had stopped him from picking up strays again and again.

The irony of it did not go unnoticed by Loki, who, in a self-preservational manoeuvre, had to stuff his mouth full of salad to prevent himself from uttering something stupid about old habits dying hard – if for no other reason, then for the fact that the joke would have been on Loki himself. He quickly steered the conversation back to the piglet and how Thor had punched one of his best friends for suggesting that they fatten it up for eating it later.

When they were finished, Thor suggested that they watch a film, and when Loki agreed, led him to a shelf full of DVDs.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, when Loki couldn’t suppress a smirk.

“Nothing,” Loki lied, smug. He had been right – Thor _was_ a film nerd.

After a good-natured but very serious debate about why they should watch an action film instead of a comedy, they somehow – and Loki honestly had no idea how – ended up watching a film about a pig adventuring in a big city. (“Don’t look at me like that, Loki, it was my favourite as a kid! Come on, this film is a cult.”)

That certainly wasn’t how Loki had planned his evening when he had woken up that morning: sharing a couch with a hot guy and watching live animals sing and dance in a hotel room on the screen. Even more unexpected: Loki was enjoying himself. He was literally watching a film about a pig who shepherded sheep, and the hot guy hadn’t even made any move at him, and Loki was, completely unironically, having _fun_. What had he become now? Was this really his life?

 _No,_ a voice immediately answered him, _Your life is a three-hour bus ride away, in a studio apartment within a walking distance from your workplace._

Earlier that afternoon Loki had wanted nothing more than to be back home. Now, draped in Thor-scented clothes, at half an arm’s length from Thor himself, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what the appeal of his cold and empty flat had been.

“Hey,” Thor said beside him. “You okay?”

Loki blinked, realising that he had been staring at the end credits slowly rolling up the screen. He had no recollection about the film ending.

“Let’s watch another one,” he hastily suggested, getting to his feet and pointedly not looking at the clock on the wall; it was way past ten.

“Sure, if you’re not too tired,” Thor said easily, but Loki, already walking to the DVD collection, could feel his bemused gaze in the nape of his neck. Risking a quick look, he saw Thor stealing a glance at the clock.

Well, Loki didn’t care. Not watching anything else would mean calling it a night and settling for sleep, which, in turn, would mean staring at the ceiling for hours to end, trying to block out the silence that would eventually cover Loki, reminding him that that was precisely what he had to look forward to back at home. And since silence was Loki’s closest companion anyway, he could well take his fill of another person’s company tonight, because… Because he just didn’t want it to end quite yet. Even if it meant abusing Thor’s goodwill.

They ended up picking an action/drama film, one Loki hadn’t heard of before and frankly didn’t much care about even now. What he cared about was that he could return to the couch while Thor was putting the film on, two more hours of putting off the lurking silence.

When Thor returned to the couch, he casually sat right beside Loki this time. They weren’t quite touching, but when either of them shifted, their shoulders brushed lightly. It was enough.

However, Loki found he couldn’t focus on the film. Despite what he had told Thor, the exhaustion of the day was finally catching up with him, and the more he tried to fight it, the more it weighed on him. Loki tried to shoo it off, but the film had too many main characters, and Loki had already lost track on the plot. First there was some sort of post-apocalyptic forest, then a dungeon with enslaved clones, then-- wait, were there multiple timelines? That would make sense. Maybe there was a timeline where Farbauti hadn’t died and Laufey hadn’t punished Loki for trading her life for his own at his birth. There probably wasn’t a timeline in the entire universe where Loki and his brothers got along, but it wouldn’t have mattered so much if Laufey had looked at Loki with the same pride he used to look at Byleistr and Helblindi. _Don’t be stupid,_ Byleistr laughed at him. _Even if mother had lived, you’d have still been the scrawny disappointment of the family._ And Laufey was sitting beside him and laughing and laughing and laughing -

Loki jerked awake. A bloody, bearded face was laughing at him from the screen, and Loki blinked, disoriented.

“Hey,” someone said almost into his ear, and Loki realised it wasn’t a cushion he was leaning on, but Thor’s chest. The stupid laughter still ringing in his ears, even though Thor had pressed mute, Loki scrambled to sit upright, shifting away a little. A warm weight slipped off his shoulder, and he belatedly realised that Thor had wound his arm around him.

“Sorry, I just -”

“Sorry.”

They both looked at each other. The room had gone dark, the only light coming from the TV, but Loki thought he saw Thor blushing a little anyway. After a silent, awkward moment of _no, you go first_ , Loki continued, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” He cringed. “Literally on you.” How much more embarrassing could he get? Presenting himself as a needy, clingy idiot. God, he hoped he hadn’t drooled on Thor’s chest.

“What? No, that’s okay. Look, I didn’t mean to harass you or anything, but you kept sliding off my shoulder and I thought I’d just support you, because I didn’t want to jostle you awake.”

Loki could still feel where Thor’s hand had rested on his arm. “No, it’s fine, it was--” _Nice._

There was an uneasy moment where they both stared at each other while avoiding direct eye-contact, and finally Thor broke it by switching off the TV. “I don’t think either of us was really watching that,” he said, and Loki could hear him smile even in the sudden darkness.

Loki felt stupid – it had been he who had insisted on watching the stupid film, and then he went and fell asleep in the middle of it. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Honestly, why did he even try? Better go to sleep before he found yet another way to make a fool of himself.

“Look,” Thor said, and Loki winced at his tone. Here it came. Thor would make awkward excuses and maybe even throw Loki out after all.

 _No he won’t,_ a voice admonished him, and true enough, Thor proved it right – by making it even worse.

“I don’t mean to pry, but it’s pretty clear you’ve been through some rough times lately, and I just-- Loki, are you all right?”

Great, now they were talking about it. If Loki had entertained any hope during the evening that he could make it through this visit with even a sliver of dignity, here was the brutal feedback. Well, it _had_ been that kind of day.

Collecting the last shreds of what remained of his dignity, Loki uttered a laugh. “Quite. Looks like I was more tired than I thought. Perhaps it’s time we call it a night after all.”

Thor sighed but kept his gaze on Loki long enough to make him want to squirm. He looked like he was calculating his next move.

“Perhaps,” he concurred at length, and then executed what was obviously a fake yawn. “As soon as I can get up. You see, I’m pretty sleepy and this couch is just too comfy, think I’ll need a minute.” He made a show of leaning back and squirming to get comfortable, taking as much space as he could, shifting and shuffling around. “Sorry, if you could just...” He casually sneaked his arm around Loki’s shoulders and pulled gently, so that Loki ended up half-sprawled against his chest again. “Needed that spot,” Thor explained apologetically. “You were in the way. But since you’re here now, might as well sit like this for a bit.”

Loki snorted involuntarily, but didn’t attempt to move; Thor’s arm was now around him once more, and he didn’t want to risk losing it.

“For the record, you’re a terrible actor,” he told Thor anyway.

“So are you,” Thor countered, and gave Loki’s arm a gentle squeeze. Loki froze for a second, but then allowed himself to relax against Thor’s solid chest.

“Maybe I’m just so good that I played you to play me,” he mumbled out of sheer habit of always fighting for the last word, if only for appearance’s sake.

Thor’s chest rumbled pleasantly against his cheek. “Then you played me well,” Thor allowed, and, just when Loki thought the conversation was over and they could wordlessly pretend they weren’t cuddling, Thor had to add, “But just so you know, it’s all right to need a hug sometimes.”

Loki closed his eyes wearily. “My father wouldn’t agree.” It was easy to imagine Laufey’s face should he have caught his son in the arms of another man. Well, caught his son in the arms of another man, _again_.

“Your father isn’t here, is he?” Thor countered vehemently, and then froze. “Fuck. I did it again. That’s not what I-- Sorry. Again.”

Loki couldn’t help it – he burst into laughter. “And thank all the deities for that!”

Thor was clearly unsure of how to react to the whole ongoing father-issue, but he relaxed around Loki once more. Fascinating, how Loki could tell that just by feeling it. “Well, still. Sorry.”

“Forget it, Thor. Forget him.”

They were silent then, for a long time, until Thor shifted a little, turning them both so that he could raise his feet on the couch and make Loki rest more snugly on top of him. He wrapped his other arm around Loki for better support, wiggling until they were both comfortable. “Is this okay?” he murmured into Loki’s ear, sending shivers up and down Loki’s whole body. He probably felt it, too, his thumb stroking barely noticeably Loki’s neck.

Loki didn’t immediately answer him. He was by no means a small man. He wasn’t buff like a bodybuilder, but he was tall and strong in a slender, wiry way. Yet it had never been enough for Laufey, of which he had taken great pains to constantly remind Loki, always comparing him to his brothers. Loki had never felt inadequate in his own skin, and yet… He usually detested being made feel small or weak, even after he had stopped trading with his family the annual postcards of _yeah I still remember you exist and also I still hate you, but anyway happy birthday or whatever._

But now, enveloped in Thor’s massive arms, clad in Thor’s too big clothes, thoroughly aware of his own slighter form, Loki realised that he didn’t mind it. That it was, actually, all right. Thor didn’t make him feel small per se, but he made Loki feel oddly safe – contained, instead of weak.

And here was what: Thor was fucking right. Laufey wasn’t there.

“Yeah,” Loki answered. “It’s all right.”

And what do you know – he was actually telling the truth. With that, he felt the tension leak out of his body in one wave. Thor must have sensed it, because he tightened his hold a little, petting Loki’s hair, first tentatively, then, facing no resistance, with gentle confidence.

“Good,” he murmured drowsily. “Although I seriously might fall asleep soon. If that happens and you get uncomfortable, you can move to my bed. It’s in my bedroom. Obviously.”

 _Not likely,_ thought Loki, half-conscious himself – or at least he hoped he had only thought it, but Thor gave no indication of having heard anything, so maybe luck was on Loki’s side for once. After all, he had been promised a couch, and if the couch came with a Thor, Loki would not trade it for any bed.

He fell asleep like that, warm and blissfully dreamless.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The morning arrived grey and bleak, but Loki didn’t mind. He felt himself being gently pulled into wakefulness, and he stretched luxuriously on the bed – for he had, after all, moved there at some point during the night. Despite what he had thought, sleeping on a couch on top of another person for an entire night wasn’t particularly ergonomic.

Loki snuggled into the blanket, inhaling its scent deeply, in no hurry to get up yet. First, he had to decide his stance about the night before. Thor had kept to the couch, so it would be easy to march out of the bedroom and pretend that the whole deal with cuddling hadn’t happened at all. Minimal embarrassment on both sides and an easy goodbye. Alternatively, Loki could go to the kitchen, where he heard Thor was already making coffee, and explain to him that, for comparison’s sake, they also had to cuddle on the bed now that the couch had been tried. This second option was considerably more alluring than the first, but Loki had to prepare for the possibility of Thor just wanting to send him on his way and be done with it. This left the third option: to refrain from acting this way or that before he could gauge Thor’s mood. Yes, that sounded about right.

Turned out, Thor’s mood was easily deciphered. When Loki emerged in the kitchen, still in Thor’s clothes but with bare feet, Thor turned to him all radiant like he thought he had to stand in for the sun today, asking if Loki wanted tea or coffee and what he wanted for breakfast. Then, putting the kettle on for tea, he turned back to Loki.

“So. We should probably check the timetables for the bus. Where do you live?”

Loki’s heart sank. So, it was the first option then. As much as Loki wanted to avoid thinking of going home before he absolutely had to, he couldn’t not answer Thor’s question and still save his face. Sighing inwardly, he named his home city.

Thor’s eyes widened and he raised them from his phone, where he had opened the bus schedules. “What, really? That’s where I’m hoping to get the transfer! I mean, in my company. I told you last night I was-- anyway, that’s the city.”

Something jolted in Loki’s belly, and he suddenly dearly wished he had something in his hands to occupy himself with. “Oh.”

Thor was staring at his phone, tapping at the screen thoughtfully. Then he set the phone aside and turned fully towards Loki. “I was thinking,” he started, demeanour changing for subtly insecure, and Loki would be a liar if he claimed he didn’t feel a flutter of hope on hearing the words. He knew he should keep it down, for his own sake, but it proved extremely difficult when Thor was looking at him with eyes like that.

“If you’d like, I could drive you home myself,” Thor said, aiming for casual. “I mean, I’ve been intending to check out the city beforehand if I’m getting the transfer, so. So if I’m going there anyway, I might as well save you the price of the bus ticket.”

There it was, Thor’s Golden Retriever look again. Something strange and very, very pleasant bloomed in Loki’s chest, filling him with funny tingles from head to toes. He grinned. “I stand by what I said last night. You are a terrible actor.”

Thor’s answering grin was wide and unashamed. “Is that a yes?”

Loki couldn’t help himself then – he smiled, open and sincere, because you know what?

“That’s a yes.”

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> This fic now has a sequel, if you wish to read it: [This Left Turned Right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337496) :)
> 
>  


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